


Safe and Warm

by LovelyLittleGrim



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Becoming a couple without realizing it, Clothes Sharing, Fluff, M/M, The 5 times mason wore Liam’s hoodie, friends to boyfriends, just 5, soft, theres no plus 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 08:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15481884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLittleGrim/pseuds/LovelyLittleGrim
Summary: Mason keeps stealing Liam's hoodie, but Liam really doesn't mind.





	Safe and Warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlitterCake20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterCake20/gifts).



> Gifted to Sammy because it's her fault I spiraled about hoodie sharing Miam.

Liam’s lacrosse hoodie is missing. He’s positive he put it on Mason’s desk before they went to sleep last night and yet it’s nowhere to be seen. He stands there in the middle of Mason’s bedroom, staring at the desk in confusion. It’s not like hoodies can just get up and walk away... right? That’s crazy, even for Beacon Hills.

“Dude,” Mason says loudly as he steps into the room behind Liam. “Come on, we're going to be late.”

“Hey, Mase, have you seen my...” Liam turns around and pauses.

Mason’s wearing his hoodie and even though he’s taller than Liam the hoodie is still too big on him. It makes Mason look smaller, almost fragile as he stands there in the open doorway, sunlight spilling across his face as he waits for Liam to finish his question.

“Seen what?” Mason asks slowly as he reaches for his backpack and pulls it on. His brown eyes staring at Liam expectantly the entire time, the sunlight almost making them look gold.

Liam shakes his head. It’s a little chilly this morning and Mason’s human, he needs the hoodie more than Liam does. “Never mind, dude, come on.”

He hoists up his own bag and slips it on.  “Let’s go,” he tells Mason, knocking their shoulders together gently before slipping past him out the door.

 

* * *

 

They’re hanging out at Liam’s house, finally catching up on some quality Miam-Bro time as they like to call it. It feels like it’s been months since they’ve had time for just the two of them. They’ve both been so stressed out lately about school and the irritating little tribe of pixies in the preserve wrecking havoc.

It’s nice just being able to sit beside Mason on the couch, their knees knocking together and elbows bumping as they smash their fingers against the controllers’ buttons. Liam breathes in deeply and glances out the corner of his eye at Mason. His friend looks different now, older. There’s no longer any baby fat clinging to his face, instead, there’s a line of stubble growing along his jaw. It looks scratchy and rugged and Liam finds that he likes it.

He reaches out and runs his finger along it, feeling the prickliness. It’s nice. He likes it. Mason feels so warm beneath his fingers.

“Something in my face?” Mason asks glancing over at him even as he continues playing the game Liam has forgotten about. He doesn’t move his head though, just keeps letting Liam touch him.

Liam shakes his head with a fond smile. “Nah, I’ve just... I’ve missed this.”

“What, losing at video games?” Mason teases as he kills Liam yet again before dropping his controller next to him and tipping his head to the side. His jaw presses firmly into Liam’s hand, making Liam cup it. His eyes find Liam’s, playful and dark. “I thought you would be tired of that.”

“No, you dork,” Liam says with a tiny huff, his thumb pressing into Mason’s jaw ever so slightly. “I’ve missed you.”

A soft smile slips onto Mason’s face, a flash of white teeth between parted lips. “I’ve missed you too, dude.”

“Good,” Liam drops his hand and narrows his eyes, though there’s no heat behind his glare. “And, don’t act like you win all the time.”

“No acting needed,” Mason tells him and smacks him in the face with one of the cushions just as the next round starts up and their players face off.

“Fuck!” Liam croaks out and bats away the pillow so he can see the Tv again.

“You cheater!” Liam yells as Mason hops away from the couch so Liam can’t get him, fingers smashing at the buttons as he tries to end Liam’s player yet again. “Get back here Mason!”

“Never!” Mason crows out in delight and laughs as Liam slips on a bag of spilled jelly beans on the floor.

There’s a struggle to get back up and then the chase is on, Liam hunting down Mason as the teenager weaves through furniture. Liam dodges pillows and kernels of popcorn all while grinning like a madman. He hasn’t had this much fun in what feels like years now.

“Oh look,” Mason says excitedly as he jumps over the back of the couch and knocks into the coffee table with his thigh. “ _Oh, fuck, that hurt_ — Liam! Look, you’re dying!”

The television screen is turning red as Liam’s player inches closer and closer to its death.

“Damn it,” Liam curses, he doesn’t even know where his controller is anymore. The front room looks like a child’s battlefield and he knows his mother is going to be livid, but he can’t find it in himself to worry about that right now. Not when he’s losing.

With a loud battle cry, Liam launches himself across the room and tackles Mason to the floor. He makes sure to take the brunt of the fall, cushioning Mason’ head with his hand as they drop down onto the carpet.

Mason let’s out a startled squeak and shoves the controller up into the air behind Liam’s back as Liam straddles him.

“Cheater, Cheater, Cheater!” Mason chants as Liam tries to smack down Mason’s hands so he’ll drop the controller.

“You’re the only cheater here,” Liam growls out. “Hand it over.”

Mason shakes his head rapidly back and forth. “Make me.”

Liam drops his hands on either side of Mason’s head and leans in close. He catches Mason’s wide dark eyes and grins wolfishly at the worry that settles in them. Mason knows what’s coming, but he’s brought it on himself. “Fine,” Liam tells him.

“Wait, Liam don’t—"

Liam shoves his hands beneath the rucked-up hoodie Mason’s wearing and tickles him mercilessly. His fingers skimming across smooth warm skin as Mason squirms beneath him. Peals of laughter ringing through the air from the both of them.

“I give, _Liam, I give_ ,” Mason chokes out, dropping the controller onto the ground and clasping his hands around Liam’s biceps to try and get him to stop. “You win!”

Liam’s fingers stop their assault, a wide grin forming on his face. He puffs up his chest smugly. “I always do.”

Mason scoffs quietly at that but says nothing, Liam’s fingers are still beneath his clothes, pressed firmly to unprotected skin. Liam brushes his thumb against the skin just beneath Mason’s belly button as a small warning. Mason’s body tenses just for a second and then loosens again as he sucks in large gulps of air.

“Tickling should be against the rules,” Mason murmurs.

“There’s only one rule to fight club,” Liam chirps back. “And no tickling isn’t it.”

“You’re such a dork,” Mason says with a roll of his eyes and an easy smile. His cheeks are dark from exertion, eyes bright from the tears of his laughter. He looks good like this, Liam notes as he takes in his friend’s appearance. Happy. It’s been a while since Mason has looked this carefree.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” Liam says when he notices the familiar maroon material. He plucks it with his fingers as he draws his hands away from Mason’s warmth.

Mason glances down at his chest and shrugs. “Want it back?”

“Nah, it’s cold in here, keep it on,” Liam tells him even though they’re both clearly sweating.

Mason’s voice is quiet when he says. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Liam’s excited as he runs up to Mason at school, he’d gotten here extra early just so he could see Coach Finstock before class began.

Mason laughs when he sees him. “Dude, you’re like a puppy, what’s up?”

“I got you something,” Liam tells him and pulls the bag from behind his back. He holds it out to Mason and waits impatiently for it to be taken.

Mason looks surprised, his eyes widening as he reaches for it. “You got me something?”

“Yeah,” Liam says with a shy shrug. “I technically got you something a week ago, but it just arrived.”

He rocks back and forth on his feet as Mason opens the bag and pulls a swath of maroon fabric from within it. It’s a lacrosse hoodie, just like the one Liam and every other player has. The only difference is that instead of Mason’s name on the back of it there’s the word—

“Intense,” Mason laughs as he reads it.

“It’s practically your catchphrase,” Liam tells him. “Velma says jinkies and you say intense.”

“Does that make you Scooby-Doo?” Mason asks thoughtfully, a teasing lilt to his words.

Liam scoffs, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back against the lockers. “Dude, I’m totally Daphne,” he tells Mason seriously.

“Sure, you are buddy,” Mason says, he's smiling softly down at the hoodie clutched in his hands, his eyes taking every inch of it in. He looks back up at Liam and Liam’s breath catches a little in his throat at the look on Mason’s face. “Thanks, Liam.”

Liam swallows thickly, his throat clicking. “Yeah, dude, no problem.” He nods down at the hoodie in Mason’s hands. “You should put it on.”

Mason glances down at himself, his cheeks darkening with embarrassment. “Uh.”

_He’s wearing Liam’s hoodie again._

“Oh,” Liam says. “That’s where it is.”

He’s surprised he hadn’t noticed sooner. He supposes he’s just become accustomed to seeing Mason wearing it now that it doesn’t even register anymore.

Mason reaches down for the hem of the hoodie. “Hold mine, I’ll take yours off.”

He tugs it up, his shirt going with it and revealing smooth dark skin and a trail of soft looking hair. Liam reaches out before he knows what he’s doing and wraps a hand around Mason’s wrist. “No, it’s fine. Keep mine on, I’ll just wear yours today.

Mason doesn’t move. His dark eyes flickering over Liam’s face inquisitively. “Are you sure, man?”

“Yeah,” Liam nods his head quickly. “Positive.”

He shrugs off his backpack and drops it to the floor before stealing away the new hoodie. It smells a little strange; like a factory and plastic but it’ll soak in his scent soon enough. He pulls the hoodie over his head. It’s a little snugger than his own but it fits nicely. He holds out his arms and twirls around in front of Mason. “Alright, what do you think?”

Mason eyes him critically, then nods his head. “10 out of 10,” he tells Liam in a deeper voice like he’s some tv game show host.

“Ohoo,” Liam cheers as he swoops down for his backpack and shoulders it again. “A perfect score.” He winks, fully knowing that he looks like a complete dork as he does it, but he doesn’t care. It’s worth Mason’s amusement. “Guess I do always win.”

Mason laughs so hard Liam’s worries he might actually break something, but he loves the sound of it.

 

* * *

 

He’s sitting at the lunch table with Mason when Nolan drops down beside him with a confused look on his face. “I thought your last name was Dunbar, not intense.”

Liam cocks a brow. “What?”

“Your hoodie,” Nolan says gesturing towards Liam’s back. “It says intense,” he pauses and then adds. It also says 96 which… isn’t your number.”

“Oh,” Liam says understandingly and bobs his head as he stuffs his last bite of burger into his mouth. He chews it quickly and swallows before telling Nolan, “Yeah, this isn’t my lacrosse hoodie, it’s Mason’s.”

Mason hums at the mention of his name, his eyes raising up from the book he has propped against his lunch tray. “What’s mine?”

“The hoodie,” Liam tells him. “I’m wearing yours.”

Mason frowns. “Yeah, I know,” he motions down at himself. “I’m wearing yours.”

Nolan glances back and forth between the two of them. His eyes widening with something like understanding.

“Oh,” he says slowly. “Oh, I didn’t know you two were— I mean there’s nothing wrong with,” Nolan looks flustered all of a sudden, his pale cheeks turning bright red as he babbles. “I just mean it’s cute that you guys wear each other’s hoodies.”

Liam shrugs. He doesn’t really see anything cute about it per say, but he guesses it might be to other people.

“We used to share clothes all the time when we were younger,” Mason says turning his attention back to his book. Liam watches him for a moment, studies the way Mason’s eyes steadily move across the page. He always looks so intense when he reads, it’s kind of adorable.

“Yeah,” Liam nods and reaches for one of Mason’s fries while he’s not looking. Mason still manages to smack his hand away, not hard but just enough to keep Liam from trying again. “And then Mason decided to hit puberty and turn into a giant, after that, sharing clothes was hard unless I wanted to run around in a halter top.”

“Which you’ve done before,” Mason points out unhelpfully and scoots his tray farther away from Liam.

Nolan shoots them a quizzical look before saying. “I don’t think we’re on the same page at all here.”

“You don’t even have a book out,” Liam tells him with a mouth stuffed full of Nolan’s unprotected French fries.

 

* * *

 

Mason is pleasantly warm against Liam’s back, his arms wrapped tight around Liam’s waist, his chin propped on Liam’s shoulder. Liam feels undeniably safe in the comfort of Mason’s arms, his body heat staving off the late autumn chill in the air as they sit outside on the pitch.

“The freshmen look terrified,” Mason murmurs, hot puffs of breath ghosting past Liam’s cheek.

Liam’s eyes dart around the lacrosse field, watching as two freshman faceoff against Brett. As annoying as Brett is, Liam has to admit that he makes a very good coach. He’s glad Brett agreed to help so that he can sit here and take notes on all the newbies. Mentally though, because he’s far too comfortable to actually reach for a pen and paper.

“Yeah well, look at how tiny they are,” Liam tells Mason, fully aware that Brett can hear them. “Wouldn’t you be terrified if you had to go against a giant with a lacrosse stick?”

Mason’s arms squeeze tighter around him as he laughs, his face turning into Liam’s neck, stubble scrapping at Liam’s skin. It makes Liam shiver, his head tipping to the side so that Mason’s face can fit more comfortably against him.

They stay like that for a long time, watching the players on the field and talking softly to one another about inane things. Liam’s fingers run up and down Mason’s covered arm. “You’re wearing my hoodie again,” he says idly. He’d noticed this morning when he went to reach for his own hoodie next to his bed only to realize that it wasn’t his at all, but Mason’s. “Have you ever even worn your own.”

Mason hums thoughtfully, the vibration tickling Liam’s ear and making him squirm ever so slightly. “Sorry,” Mason murmurs turning his face so that his lips aren’t beside Liam’s ear anymore before answering. “I don’t think so.”

“I went through a lot with Coach to get it for you,” Liam says, but he’s not angry. He likes Mason wearing his hoodie, it makes his scent cling to the human, makes him look soft and cuddly.

“Looks better on you,” Mason says and Liam can hear the truth of it in his heartbeat. That steady, reassuring thumping he knows better than his own heartbeat. “Shows off your muscles more.”

“Oh,” Liam says quietly and for some reason, he feels oddly warm and pleased by the words. “Okay.”

Brett rolls his eyes as he drops down onto the grass across from them, his hair sweaty and skin flushed. He stares at them for a long time before shaking his head. “I hate you two so much, “ he says as he brushes a hand through his hair. “You’re always wearing each other’s hoodies and cuddling and—“ he makes a disgusted face. “You’re such a sickeningly sweet couple.”

Liam blinks at the word in surprise.

_Couple?_

He tilts his head to the side and looks at Mason, he can see the same surprise in Mason’s dark eyes but that’s it. There’s no confusion or disgust, there’s not even contemplation. Mason smiles at him and squeezes him a little tighter, the surprise slipping away from his gaze and morphing into something else, something softer. A quiet acceptance that yes, this is what they are even though they’ve never said it aloud.

Liam slides his hand over Mason’s where it’s wrapped around his waist, he threads their fingers together. A smile forming on his face even as he says. “Yeah, we are.”

 


End file.
